


The Message

by LadyVictory



Category: The 100 (TV), Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Compliant, F/F, Major Character Injury, Takes place before The 100 TV show begins, Time Travel, Wynonna needs love and so does Anya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVictory/pseuds/LadyVictory
Summary: Blinking hard and forcing herself to sit up, Wynonna coughs and fights against a wave of dizziness. Looking around, she sees two of the three Revs lying unconscious nearby, and her gun - her weapon and purpose and bane of her existence - just a few feet away.No Dolls. No Black Badge SUV.She hears horses approaching and tenses, knowing the smell of trouble in the air without having to be told. It’s her business and her nature after all.Just as the first Rev stirs, three riders break the line of trees across the small clearing, maybe 50 feet away.“Well boys,” the Earp heir quips, reaching for the Peacemaker. “Looks like we ain’t in Kansas anymore. And here comes the welcoming committee.”****Anya kom Trikru tracks and captures what seems to be a Maunon invader who has the ability to walk unaided by a mask.Wynonna Earp leaps before she looks, and once again ends up neck deep in trouble, this time hundreds of miles and years from home.[A story of what-could-have-been-love between two rough-but-noble women.]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsheartstory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsheartstory/gifts).



> AN 1: I misplaced the notebook with the next chapter of "the light is no mystery" so this is my apology for taking so long. I will find it...
> 
> AN 2: This was born from a conversation about how Wynonna needed some lady lovin' but I couldn't bring myself to split up Waverly and Nicole. I think we made a list of other ladies who needed the love and Anya was #1...
> 
> AN 3: Bear with me, there will be quipping and kissing and possibly a sex scene, but there is also some feels...

**ANYA**

There is a foul odor to the morning air - a bitter sort of stench that makes Anya’s nose burn and skin crawl. It’s unnatural - sinister even. It makes her hesitate at the top of the ridge overlooking the valley.

A thin wisp of smoke rises from the dense canopy of trees, swirling with a false banality in the wind. There was no village on the land beneath the ridge.

“General?” Tristan sneers, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Ride back to _Tondisi_. Report back to Indra.”

“Report what? That some of us frighten when confronted with smoke?”

Anya grits her teeth, refusing to rise to the bait.

Tristan is getting bold in his insubordination. It will have to be addressed soon, though now was not the time nor the place.

“Fire in a fertile valley with no village? With no lightning to spark a flame, and smoke not smelling of wood?” Anya says, almost casual, before her face contorts and she spits, “ _Maunon_.”

Tristan’s cruel smile falls from his face instantly, and he swallows hard.

“And what would you do, while I warn our leader?”

“I.” Anya draws her sword, grin more of a threat than an expression of humor. “I would take my guard and meet the enemy with my blades.”

Motioning to Zar and Hanibel, her most trusted warriors, Anya pulls on the reins in her hand and turns her horse towards the gray plume.

She doesn’t wait for Tristan to acknowledge her command, knowing that he will, albeit grudgingly. He would, Anya knew, because to do otherwise would be a challenge, and he is much too cowardly to dare that now, when she has her men about her and a weapon in her hand.

The General kicks her feet and her mount takes off, galloping down into the valley. She hears the twin whines of her men’s horses as they follow, and her lips pull back in a determined grimace.

 

**WYNONNA**

The sounds of birds squawking (better characterized as twittering really, but the pounding in Wynonna’s head and the taste of foul cotton packed into her mouth make her surly) was confusing as hell.

The last thing the Earp Heir cum Black Badge deputy remembered was diving at a trio of Revs through a ring of purple and green flames, trying desperately to keep them from getting away. She could still kinda hear Dolls yelling from behind, as the sinking feeling in her stomach told her that she had once again done something real stupid in place of thinking.

Her entire body feels hot and dry, like a tequila hangover.

Wynonna Earp hates tequila.

“Ugh,” Wynonna grunts eloquently, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Her lids feel like sandpaper against the delicate organs, and there doesn’t seem to be enough liquid in them to do much but make gunk in the corners.

Her stomach clenches, acrid and heavy, and she has to swallow hard to keep from losing her road-breakfast all over herself.

Nearby there is a shuffling sound and a pair of long suffering groans and Wynonna’s blood turns to ice in her veins.

Right. The Revenants.

Forcing her eyes open, the Earp heir slams them shut again.

“This ain’t happenin’,” she assures herself, taking a deep, shaky breath. “You didn't see what you thought you saw.”

She tries again, eyes watering as she opens them wide, as if that will make them see what she wants them to see.

The last thing she remembered was in direct conflict with the sunny, almost serene woods she was faced with now.

She remembers riding shotgun in the Black Badge mobile, fiddling with the radio, more in an attempt to annoy Dolls than find a good song.

They were on the trail of a trio of Revs who had managed to do what should have been impossible - they’d found a way off Purgatory land. It was thanks to a handful of amulets cooked up by the witch before they shut that nonsense down, so small favor was that all the Revs couldn’t flee, but it was definitely something to put in the ‘this ain’t good’ column.

Dolls was worried that they’d come back for as many of their brethren as the amulets allowed (near as they could tell there were 12 amulets in all), but Wynonna was more inclined to think they were just gonna run around causing mayhem until they were put down. Which Wynonna was more than inclined to do, especially if it meant a road trip. It had been a dog's age since she had been out of town.

(Sometimes Wynonna felt as trapped by Purgatory’s borders as the Revs. The idea of it made her itch, made her want to run and buck against responsibility, after a life of wandering. She’d never tell Waverly though, she knew it’d break her little sister’s heart.)

Things got fuzzy in Wynonna’s memory after they crossed into Washington D.C. proper. They’d chased the bastards all over God’s creation (okay so maybe it was a straight-ish line of pursuit from Purgatory to D.C.) and they’d made amazing time.

Dolls drove 16 hours a day, sleeping in the back a few hours at a time while Wynonna took the wheel. At this point the eldest Earp wouldn’t need much convincing to believe that the enigmatic agent was actually a robot.

The absolute last thing Wynonna remembered, she and Dolls were finally in the concrete jungle, closing in. They had surprised the group of Revs in the middle of some sort of ritual - Wynonna didn’t know what but it was clearly trouble - and she had rushed in as she always did…

The trees that surrounded her now were in direct opposition to the cement and metal she was expecting.

The flora around her was lush and thick, as if it had never known the cruelty of Man. She can hear animals rustling around - birds in the trees and beasts in the bush. It reminded her of her brief time in Romania, where she and another wandering traveler (a gorgeous Italian girl with rich brown eyes and a wicked laugh) had chased highs and howled under the moon.

The feeling - the place - was untamed. Wild. It appealed to Wynonna as much as terrified her.

Blinking hard and forcing herself to sit up, Wynonna coughs and fights against a wave of dizziness. Looking around, she sees two of the three Revs lying unconscious nearby, and her gun - her weapon and purpose and bane of her existence - just a few feet away.

No Dolls. No Black Badge SUV.

She hears horses approaching and tenses, knowing the smell of trouble in the air without having to be told. It’s her business and her nature after all.

Just as the first Rev stirs, three riders break the line of trees across the small clearing, maybe 50 feet away.

“Well boys,” the Earp heir quips, reaching for the Peacemaker. “Looks like we ain’t in Kansas anymore. And here comes the welcoming committee.”

_tbc..._


End file.
